Miss Potter
by ScribblesinDirt
Summary: Basically Harry is a girl, looks like her mother but has her father's eyes, and was sorted in Slytherin. To go along with that I put Hermione in Ravenclaw, Ron in Hufflepuff, and only left Nevil in Gryffindor. Eventual HP/DM ship, but it'll take a while to get there.
1. Chapter 1

**Not mine**

The Durselys were an utterly normal in almost every way. Perhaps the only way they deviated from the ideal white picket fence family was that they didn't actually have two children. They had a son and a niece. To compensate Aunt Petunia made sure she knew her place, and Uncle Vernon tried to keep her out of as many social events as possible, declaring it to be due to her delicate nature.

Heather didn't feel particularly delicate though. Her cousin and his friends often offered to toughen her up - However, they rarely caught her. From a very young age she had known she didn't belong. When strangers commented on her 'daughters pretty red hair,' her Aunt was always quick to explain that she was her niece. There weren't any family pictures up, at least not with Heather in them. It didn't take long for her to understand she wasn't like other kids. Being scrawny might have come from living in the cupboard and 'lady like' portions for meals, but odd things tended to happen around Heather. Things she couldn't really believe we're caused by her unfair living conditions.

It was a relief then, to find out she was different but in a good way. That her parents were good people who loved her and that someone wanted her somewhere. It was even better to spend the day with Hagrid, who didn't seem to care if she behaved like a 'well-mannered young lady' or if she really enjoyed the wild ride in the bank's carts. It all came down to magic. Magic was wonderful and exciting and impossible and it was in her! Everything she had ever done wasn't freakish, it was to be expected. Like her eyes and hair she got it from her parents and suddenly she had more to look forward to then hoping she could someday be married and escape the Durselys once and for all.

To be fair, there was bad news to go with the good. Her parents had been murdered and when their killer had failed to take her out, Heather had become some sort of hero. People stared and whispered, and probably wanted Heather to act a certain way like Aunt Petunia did. But the negative things made it all seem real, and she really couldn't wait until school started.

The whispering really got old fast though. It'd be different if she had road a dragon into the great hall, but they were all interested in something she didn't even remember happening. Heather just hoped she'd be able to do something amazing on her own. Then they'd at least be talking about her for the right reasons. Now though, now was the defining moment. Did she belong here? Or would she sit upon the stool until the minutes stretched on in silence and they sent her back to the Dursley's?

The hat was so large it covered her eyes and she waited nervously for something, anything to happen. For a moment there was nothing and her stomach rolled. Then she heard a voice, one that tickled inside her ear. It told her things she wanted to hear, that she could fit in any of the houses, that she did belong. She was so relieved she didn't even argue when it said she could do great in Slytherin. Could one argue with a hat? As she stood, her new table erupted into cheers. Now that the awful waiting was out of the way, she could look around; notice the ghosts, the ceiling, and how amazing everything was.

Dinner finally appeared in front of them, a feast on golden platters. She took a little of everything within reach, glad to be away from Aunt Petunia's idea of how much she should eat. "Potter!" A demanding voice called from down the table, causing more than just her to look at the source. It was Draco Malfoy, the rude boy from the train. He was grinning smugly. "My offer still stands, Potter." Heather frowned in confusion. _Offer? Oh, the 'right sort of wizards' thing. Really, who talks like that?_ She rolled her eyes at him and replied, "My answer hasn't changed Malfoy." The look on his face told her she had permanently burned that bridge, but who cared? He was a bully and she'd had enough of that.

Prefects eventually stood and guided all of them down into the bowels of the school. They stopped at a blank bit of wall, identical as far as she could tell to every other wall they had passed so far. The prefect pointed at the wall. "This is the entrance the dorms, the password is currently 'Unity'. That will change every fortnight so check the notice board for updates. If you forget where the common room is, or what the password is you obviously deserve to sleep outside." His tone brooked no argument. They followed him in where what looked like the rest of the house waited.

It was a very formal room, with dark button-tufted leather sofas and dark wood tables and cupboards. The light was green tinged, and the windows were very dark though every now and then Heather though she saw something moving outside. There were stylized snake decorations, but there were also skulls and grand tapestries that lined the walls. The room was packed but the first years somehow managed to find room amongst the rest. Heather decided to sit on the floor in front of the couch, legs crossed and folded sideways underneath her. She yawned and hoped this wouldn't take too long. It had been a surprisingly tiring day.

Several people gasped as a man in black robes simply appeared in front of the assembled students. The superior smirks of the upperclassmen showed that this was expected. "I am Professor Snape your head of house and the potions master. For the duration of your stay at Hogwarts, Slytherin will be the only place you belong." He didn't seem too welcoming, his hook nose and sneering mouth made him look like a cartoon villain in fact.

His dark eyes glittered strangely as he swept his gaze across the room. "The rest of the school, and even the rest of the world, will fear you because of your cunning and ambition. It is your job to cultivate the skills necessary to change that fear into respect. Everyone in this room has the potential for greatness. However, not all of you will actually succeed in reaching that lofty height." His eyes met hers and paused for a moment, as if he thought she might not make it.

The professor looked away and his tone became hard. "You will not be coddled in this house, weakness and failure will not be tolerated. I only have time for the most promising students, for the rest of you direct your attention to your prefects. Fawley, Burke." He disappeared as abruptly as he had arrived. Heather couldn't see quite how he did it, and so focused on the two students who had moved to the front of the room.

The girl spoke first. "We're a resource one you won't have once forever so we suggest you come to use while you can. We also make sure all of you snot noses know what's expected of you and keep you in line. In Slytherin we don't dock points, we're here to win after all, we assign detentions - as many as needed to correct the problem. If that means your evenings are spent with Filch from now until the end of term so be it." She heard a couple of murmurs behind her; apparently the girl had carried through with her threat last year. The stern boy from before continued the lecture. "Success is measured in power and power comes from two sources, knowledge and connections." Pausing, he set his mouth into a firm line. "For you that means outside of these rooms we present a united front."

The girl shook her head. "Perhaps you might think to get by trading on the bonds made because of our standard of house pride, but remember we are not Hufflepuffs." There were derisive comments from the older students. Why did everyone dislike that house? Loyal sounded like an okay thing to be. "If a person is not useful there is no reason not to discard them once you've completed your education and they have no value." _Ah right. No use being loyal to lazy people I guess._

"We suggest you read ahead in classes. We also encourage extracurricular activities. If you want to be a lazy fool so be it. Slytherin will continue to be the greatest house, even if that means we have to remove the dead weight." Apparently the boy felt like he needed to threaten the first years too. Heather supposed they were trying to make them behave, but just in case decided it would be a good idea not to get on the prefects bad side.

"Speaking of extracurriculars Flint, our Quidditch captain, has an announcement." A tall, small headed boy got up and spoke in a bored tone. "Anyone who wants a chance of being on the team this year or the next will meet every Sunday at six. If you aren't there, don't bother showing for tryouts." He sat again and several of the first years began whispering furiously. She definitely heard Malfoy say something about his broom.

The girl prefect spoke again, silencing the whispers. "Tomorrow morning you are to be up and ready to go at seven. We will escort you to breakfast and pass out your schedules." That was apparently a dismissal, and everyone began to leave. "Boys dorms are on the left, girls are on the right. Don't try going down the wrong hallway, or you'll get a nasty shock." As she crawled into bed, Heather realized she hadn't seen Ron since the sorting and that he didn't like Slytherin. _Tomorrow._ She thought as she drifted off. _We'll have classes together and talk about it._


	2. Chapter 2

The whispers followed her around the school, and it was maddening. Everyone had expected her to be like her parents. A Gryffindor, a hero. Since those expectations were subverted they had other plans, other roles for her to fill. She could not stand to be shoved into that box again. In her mind she could hear her so called family. _Freak._ She had thought being a witch would be different, but from the beginning they already had an idea of who she should be. _The Girl-Who-Lived._ Heather was so glad, angry yet glad, that she hadn't been put into the brave or the loyal house. Because then the only way to escape would be to go into the box and make it her own.

It would have been etiquette lessons with Aunt Petunia all over again. It didn't matter that in school she learned girls could act just like boys did. Petunia thought that to be reminded of her proper place in the world as a _girl_ she might make Heather less abnormal. At first she fought and screamed and refused to wear the dresses, hurled the books… But none of that changed anything. She was put back in the cupboard, she was punished, and then she was still told she had to do it. They thought she was a brat, an uncontrollable freak, and they still tried to make her do what they wanted.

Heather had an epiphany then. This war she was fighting would never end. Her family would keep pushing her until she either caved or they could lock her away for good. So she studied hard. Became the perfect _lady;_ so thoroughly filled their expectations that she exceeded them. Heather made a game out of it. She could run through the house, up and down stairs, cook, clean, and garden, with a book on her head. Perfect posture, perfect manners, perfect little niece. Magically things changed. Heather wasn't told to pretend she didn't exist when her aunt or uncle had guests over. At first because she was just so obedient and then because they couldn't stop without it seeming _odd_ and upsetting their precious normality.

Every time they had over friends or workmates, she was there cooking, serving tea, being just so polite, a proper young girl. They had to take every complement on her behalf, know that in this small way she was better than them, knew how to act more normal than them. Of course she made mistakes, was caught out eating more than polite for a young woman, not quite having the right reaction when Dudley was taunting her. While every smug admonishment felt like a failure on her part, she just continued to try and be better - to not only know but become better than they ever were. Because someday they would have to admit it, the world would have to admit that Heather Lilly Potter was better than her family, better than anyone who tried to put her beneath them.

Which brought her back to Hogwarts and why she was glad she wasn't in Gryffindor, she didn't want to do that from inside a box. Heather had thought that she'd finally be free of the expectations of others. There were still plenty of traps to fall into, but the hardest on of all for her to resist would be the one where everyone had already admitted she was better than them. That she was the greatest person in the whole wizarding world with maybe no possible exceptions for something she couldn't even remember. It would be so easy to be complacent, to believe that she was the best without even trying to reach her full potential. That would have been the trap of Gryffindor. The traps in Slytherin seemed easier to navigate for all that she had a lot of catching up to do.

Slytherins were expected to be ambitious, she had ambition. Slytherins were said to be dark, she decided at the Dursleys she was never meant to be a hero when she couldn't even save herself. Slytherins were seen as evil, it _was_ evil to pretend to be something you weren't. Most importantly, Slytherins were expected to be cunning, Heather would learn how to turn their expectations into something better than the real thing.

All of that sounded good but plans and determination aside, she had no idea how to go about doing it. Muggle etiquette just didn't cover these sorts of situations. Maybe there was a wizarding guide, _Magical Manners for the Wily Witch_. Heather would ask her housemates if they would just _talk_ to her!

 _Everyone ELSE in this school has something to say to me or about me._ She almost couldn't wait until someone in her house said _something_ , no matter how horrid it was likely to be. Not that they were being awful exactly. Parkinson had made it clear that the first year girls were to stick together even beyond the house unity rule. Millicent had suggested a study group in which they all participated in once a week. Even Davis had consented to have mindless, meaningless polite conversations with her. The older students in her house pretended she didn't exist unless Heather specifically asked them a question. The younger ones just talked around her, but everyone responded to her comments easily and then moved on.

Like Aunt Petunia's tea parties, nothing of substance was said but she had the feeling she was being judged. They were waiting for a sign, for her to perform as they expected, and unlike the rest of the school, Slytherin wasn't going to tell her which box they wanted her in. Instead they'd let her pick a box and see if they liked the one she climbed into. It was freeing. It was maddening. Heather wondered what they'd do if she refused to stay in one box.

Watching the upperclassmen interact, she was starting to get an idea of just what it meant to be a Slytherin beyond the labels people gave them. There were deals, bets, competitions and all of it seemed like a game – like it didn't matter. The loser would just weigh it at a later point and see if the scales tipped his way. People talked about serious matters inside the common room, politics and news, but anywhere else they only mentioned school gossip. Everyone seemed at least a year ahead in theory if not spell work of where they should be. They looked down on the rest of Hogwarts, and everyone _let_ them like they _agreed_ with the behavior. And in the middle of all this, in the middle of all the almost incomprehensible qualities of Slytherin was Draco Malfoy.

He hated her, Heather was _sure_ of it. He made snarky comments, thinly veiled references to her. He partnered with her in every class to be sure he could not only show off how much ahead of her he was, but that he was just so confused as to why she couldn't seem to keep up. He went out of his way to criticize in the most condescending way possible everything she did in every class. It was perfectly natural for her to hate him back. It had absolutely no bases on the snap judgement she had made on the train. So, just like with the Druselys, she set out to prove herself better than him.

Heather was always sure to be nicer to him than he was to her. Every time he made a comment about her classwork, she thanked him for his help. She referred to him by his last name and made no comment when he made a mistake. When he began to say rude things in her presence about others she said that she disagreed and left it at that. He was picking on her blatantly, but instead of doing anything about it, everyone seemed to be waiting to see how she would react. Heather spent every free moment trying to catch up, but no amount of studying was going to change Malfoy. There was an anger growing inside her, but she bottled it up. At least until potions at the end of the first week.

Being singled out was shocking, especially with the house rule of unity in front of the rest of the school, but she managed to answer the torrent of questions correctly. While Professor Snape seemed displeased she had actually read the introduction to the book and not just the first chapter, he did finally move on. His tone was rather mean as he said, "Congratulations, Miss Potter you appear to know that fame isn't everything and actually opened you text before coming to class. A point for Slytherin." Sneering as he glanced around the rest of the class and shouted. "Why aren't you all copying this down?"

In the sudden bustle of everyone rushing for their supplies, Malfoy leaned over with a small smile. "Well obviously being famous for getting your parents brutally murdered wouldn't be _everything_." He could have been meaning it as commiseration, he could have just been doing his usual teasing, but something in Heather snapped. After years of hearing about how her parents were worthless drunks and then finding out they were heroes and had died saving her, she couldn't just take that insult from him on top of listening to him all week.

Ink jars on the workbenches exploded, the jars on the walls of strange preserved things followed suit, and she could still feel all of her pent up anger welling up out of her. The class room erupted into shrieks and people tried to climb under their tables. It felt good to let it all out. Then Malfoy did what he had been doing since she met him and ruined everything. His hands slammed into her hard, shocking her as she fell onto the floor. He was staring at her like she was at him – somewhat shocked at the other's actions. "Miss Potter, Mister Malfoy, Detention tonight at seven."

Professor Snape's voice caused both of them to flinch and Heather got up, trying to avoid cutting herself on the glass. At his direction, everyone who had been caught in a rain of glass moved up to the front of the room to have it magicd away. The rest of the period was canceled. She collected her things and without looking at Malfoy, Heather spoke in a low voice. "Don't ever mention my parents, ever again."


	3. Chapter 3

**One idea sparked another. So maybe I'll just continue to update this and Last Request at the same time. Thanks for reading.**

Her anger faded when she finally escaped the dungeons, and she made a break for the grounds. "Potter!" She turned; somewhat dismayed that she hadn't escaped. Heather was pleasantly surprised to see it wasn't Malfoy and his goons. Instead the chubby toad boy had chased her down. Having caught up he took a moment to catch his breath, resting his hands on his knees. She watched him curiously, not knowing what he could possibly want. Wasn't there some rule at Hogwarts that said red and green could never meet except at Christmas? "Can I help you?" Heather asked.

Standing back up, the boy wrung his hands nervously. "Yes! Oh I mean no! umm…" He looked down and then back up with sudden determination. "I - I'm Neville Longbottom." Ah that was his name. Somewhat bemused by the whole situation she gave a small dip that wasn't quite a curtsy. "Heather Potter, it's a pleasure to meet you." Tilting her head to the side she added, "I believe we met on the train." Longbottom blushed. "Yeah…Trevor is always getting loose." Still not sure where the boy was going with all of this, Heather frowned.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not in the best mood for small talk, was there something you wanted to say?" His flush grew brighter but he nodded. "I heard what you said to Malfoy." The anger that she had let fade was back, but the Gryffindor didn't back down. "My parents and yours were friends. I just wanted you to know…" His seemed to lose his nerve, and broke off to stare at the ground. Almost too quite to hear, he finished. "That I know what it's like."

Not sure what to say, Heather imitated her Aunt when a man on the street had said he was sorry she had lost her sister. "I appreciate the sentiment Longbottom." She was rather stiff and formal but the boy looked back up. Knowing that their parents had been friends spurned her to do something reckless. "I hope we can follow in their footsteps and continue the association?" The words were awkward coming out, but the boy smiled shyly at her.

"If we're to be friends, I'm going to have to insist you call me Neville." His voice had changed into a formal tone too, erasing the stammering he seemed prone to. Ron was still avoiding her, probably because her uniform had broken out in snakes, and her dorm mates were still maintaining a too polite façade. So here truly was a chance for a friend. "Only if you call me Heather." She was grinning now, the day suddenly seeming brighter. "I was going to explore the grounds, would you care to accompany me?" Heather was continuing to play the part of a 'proper young lady' like her aunt had always wanted, and to her delight Neville seemed to get the joke and play along.

Offering her his arm he said ever so politely, "It would be an honor to escort you on your outing." For a moment they both just stared at each other, and then burst into laughter. "Thank you Neville." Heather said sincerely. "You have completely made up for Malfoy." Looking much more comfortable then he had at any point she had seen him, the boy grinned. "I don't suppose you'd care to put that in writing and owl it off to my gran? She'd love to hear that a Longbottom was worth more than a Malfoy."

Confused Heather stopped walking. They had ended up by the lake, not really paying attention to where they wandered. "Your families know each other then?" Neville shrugged. "Know of each other really. Though all of the twenty-eight are related somehow." Feeling like he was speaking gobbledygook, the goblin language she'd heard about in History, she blinked at him. "I'm sorry, the twenty-eight what?" Looking nervous again, his eyes wide as he looked back at her. "You…You mean you d-don't know?" She crossed her arms defensively. "I was raised by muggles, there is a lot I don't know." His face went pale.

Suddenly more concerned than irritated, she frowned at him. "But, but! You're the girl who lived!" He blurted. "And the Potter Heir!" He began to wring his hands again. "Surely your magical guardian-." Really tired of being confused she snapped at him. "I don't have a magical guardian!" He flinched. "I just told you I was raised with my muggle relatives." He took a step back. "That doesn't make any sense!" He practically squeaked at her. Throwing her hands up, she yelled back at him. "You're the one not making sense!"

From inside her bag she heard glass shatter. Look down at it, she saw a black stain start to spread across the brown fabric. Heather quickly dropped it and began digging her books and notes out, trying to save them. Feeling suddenly exhausted she sighed. "It happened again." Neville knelt down next to her, and began gathering up the stray papers before they got blown away. "Accidental m-magic, happens sometimes when y-you're upset." He offered softly. He looked kind of sad.

Fishing the glass out of her bag, Heather wondered why they had gone from easily joking to this mess. Experimentally she put back on her 'proper lady' tone. "Neville, if you would be so kind as to explain why you are having such an extreme reaction to my living with muggles?" An awful thought occurred to her. "You're not prejudice are you?" He shook his head, but was still looking at her in concern. "N-no." He said. Then more firmly. "It's not that. Heather you're the Heir to the Potter family, while not one of the twenty-eight..."

He paused seeing her frown again. "The most Noble and Ancient Pure Blood Families. They make up the foundation of the Wizarding World." She noted that seemed he was more comfortable talking formally with people, because his stutter went away again. "An heir to any magical family, even if not the most traditional, is raised knowing certain things about the world." The bag was damp but should dry soon. She lined the bottom with blank parchment, and then started loading her books back in. Heather still didn't see the big deal.

"I'll just have to figure it out now then." She said. Neville handed her back the papers he had collected. "If you were a muggleborn they would have assigned you a magical guardian to explain the basics, if you were an estranged part of a lesser family and suddenly been the only Heir they would have spent the summer educating you on…well everything." She shoved the papers in with more force than strictly necessary. "So I'll muddle through on my own. Not like anyone feels the need to tell me anything."

Neville took her bag from her as they stood. It seemed to be a reflexive action though, because he kept trying to explain. "You, despite being underage, represent the entirety of your family's politics." That sounded bad. "All alliances your family may have made will only continue if you and they come to some agreement when you become of age. You don't even know who those are with." That sounded worse. "Any and all of your actions and words are a direct reflection of your Family Name. If you accidentally insult the wrong family, it could start a blood feud." Heather began to see why he had panicked. She started to feel like panicking.

"Why do you know all of this?" She choked out. Neville expression crumpled. "It's just me and Gran. I've been the Longbottom Heir since you defeated You-Know-Who." _That's what he meant when he said he knew what it was like._ Heather felt terrible. "Well then you can teach me." She said, as much to change the subject as to give a peace offering. "I mean who better?" Neville looked kind of shocked, but he offered her his arm and she took it. As he began to escort her back to the castle she heard him mutter, "Wish you'd put that down in a letter to Gran." Smiling she squeezed her new friend's arm. "I will if you show me where the good Wizarding etiquette books are."


	4. Chapter 4

**I got a review! Made me want to give a bit more.**

Heather did make good on her promise a couple of weeks later. The stuffiest worded letter that she and Neville could formulate, using books in the library for references. The Gryffindor was actually great fun to be around. He was quiet and shy a lot, and when he didn't have a pre-trained set of formal responses to follow he stammered something awful, but he was a good friend. They only shared a few classes, and with Malfoy making himself unbearable they couldn't partner up in any of them. That was okay. It was more than she had ever had before.

Occasionally she caught sight of Ron between classes, but he always found an excuse to go the other way or talk really loudly to his new Hufflepuff friends. Heather was surprised about how greedy she was being. She already had one good friend after all… But Ron had been really nice on the train, and got over her being some important person really quick. Neville still blanched whenever she said or did something to reveal her muggle raised ignorance. Honestly if she and Malfoy hadn't started a blood feud yet, Heather wasn't sure she _could_ do so accidentally.

The two of them spent time in the library mostly. Looking up things both for class and etiquette she really out to know as an Heir. Neither one of them was particularly studious. They tended to focus on the things they were good at. For Neville that was Herbology. His ancestral home had a huge garden, and it was one of the few branches of magic that could actually be practiced at home so his Gran had let him spend most of his time there. Heather, despite her new found hatred of Snape, really enjoyed potions. It really was just like cooking, art and science combined, and was one of the few classes Malfoy couldn't make her out to be some sort of idiot no matter how hard he tried. In fact her dicing was _better_ than his.

Neville commiserated with her on how evil Snape was, the man hovered over the Gryffindor always ready to jump all over him for the tiniest infraction. He, like Heather, had managed to get detention the first week and agreed that scrubbing cauldrons that could fit people inside them was pretty awful. Malfoy had spent their shared detention chopping up potion ingredients. Indignant, Heather had managed to get her revenge by 'accidentally' bumping into him causing him to knock the entire batch of ingredients into one of the dirty cauldrons. Snape was furious about the loss, and set them both ridiculously long essays for lab safety, but it had been worth it.

When the day of flying class dawned, Heather had been looking forward to it. She got to spend time with her friend and she got to ride a broomstick like in the stories. Of course, that was until she saw what her roommates were wearing for the event. "Didn't you bring any riding skirts?" Parkinson asked. Her nose was wrinkled as if she wanted to be rude, and the other girls expressions were almost openly mocking. Heather blushed. "I didn't…"

Trailing off she listened to the little voice inside of her head that sounded like Neville. "Realize we would need them at school. I didn't know flying was mandatory for first years." While she didn't quite get why he felt it was important Slytherin House never found out she lived with muggles, she did believe he knew more about dealing with pure bloods than she did. Greengrass made a tisking sound. "You'll have to make do with whatever Prefect Fawley can transfigure for you." She sniffed in distaste. " _I'd_ owl home immediately and hope the clothing came quickly, or fake being sick."

Following the advice, she went to the prefect and explained her situation. While she did change one of her skirts into a riding skirt, the older girl also shoved a catalog at her. "Might want to update your entire wardrobe instead. I've seen what you wear on the weekends." While Heather didn't particularly care for her aunt's old dresses, the words still stung. She did have some money left over from her trip to her vault, so she shoved the magazine in her bag. Ignoring the greedy part of her that now wanted a girl friend to talk about clothes with, she headed off to breakfast.


	5. Chapter 5

Flying lessons were both more and less exciting then she had hoped. On one hand, she barely got to float on a broom. On the other, Neville had ended up in the hospital wing and she had ended up challenging Malfoy time a duel for a trinket he had stolen from her Gryffindor friend. Heather didn't know how to feel about Ron volunteering to referee the match. He claimed to be impartial, but he seemed to hate Malfoy and had been avoiding her.

A bushy haired Ravenclaw had tried to talk them out of it, but Malfoy sneered and said it was a point of family honor and that a muggleborn like her wouldn't understand it. Since Heather wasn't quite sure of what was being set up herself, she stayed out of it. They decided to meet in the trophy room at midnight since it was never locked. The Granger girl huffed and glared at them all, but didn't tattle on them to Madame Hooch when she returned.

After the abbreviated lesson she had intended to go to the infirmary to check on Neville, but Malfoy looped his arm through hers with practiced eased and insisted on escorting her to the Slytherin commons over her protests. Other than shoving the smug looking boy, Heather didn't know what to do and let him lead her there, their dorm mates in tow.

As soon as they arrived he guided her to an empty chair and sat her down before claiming his own. For a moment there was silence and then the shoe finally dropped. It was Parkinson that led the ensuing interrogation. "You broke the house rule Potter. " The girl sounded pleased, and Heather realized that they had finally decided. Somehow she had chosen a side and it was the opposite of theirs. The claws were coming out. Greengrass spoke up, just shy of actually sounding concerned. "Honestly, how could you possibly associate yourself with Longbottom of all people?" Malfoy snorted. "Useless lump. Practically a squib from what I heard. "

An older boy wondered over. She didn't know his name, but she knew he was on the Quidditch team. "What's all this then?" He asked. "Firsty meeting?" Some looked worried by his intrusion, but Malfoy was eager to explain. "Potter her defended a Gryffindor today. Challenged me for him." The older boy nodded gravely, but he smiled easily when he turned to her. "A serious enough accusation. We've thrown people out for less." Her stomach did flip flops as she tried to figure out if they were allowed to do that. Snape hated her, so it felt like a real threat. "Got a good reason for it?" His eyes caught hers and he gave her a small wink. Her fear lessened even as Pansy sneered.

"Oh please. She's just proving she doesn't really belong here." Heather glared at the pug nosed girl. "It's called making connections Parkinson. He's the sole heir to one of the sacred twenty eight. And magically proficient or not there's no question of _his_ legitimacy." She had said it without thinking, a bit of interesting gossip she had overheard turning into a sharp weapon. It hit the mark if the other girl's stunned expression was anything to go by. Malfoy rose from his chair to move by the girl.

"That was uncalled for." He actually sounded offended. Perhaps it wasn't a 'done thing' to bring up dirty laundry, but none of the first years seemed surprised or confused by her words. So it was obviously common knowledge that the Lady Parkinson had slept around. "So was questioning my loyalty to the house. Just because I don't wish to be one of your followers, doesn't mean I'm unconcerned with the good of Slytherin." The chaser let out a whistle. "Trying to set yourself up as a leader instead Potter?"

He sounded amused, which she took as a good sign. Honestly she hadn't thought about it, but there was no way she was going to let Malfoy use House Unity to trap her into putting up with him being a prat. She let her chin lift a bit. "I suppose we'll find out tonight." She said. Malfoy's face was flushed but he nodded in agreement. "I suppose we will Potter."

The crowd dispersed, and Heather ran a hand through her hair. What had she gotten herself in to?

"Well it's a bold move; I'll give you that Potter." She jumped in her seat, not noticing the older boy moving closer to talk to her. He stuck out his hand. "Adrian Pucey." Taking it she bobbed her head a bit. "Heather Potter. I appreciate your assistance Mr. Pucey." His grin widen and he sat in a vacant chair across from hers. "It was my pleasure. I've always enjoyed power plays, and once you get older everyone has usually figured out who is top dog and all of the fun ends." Heather sighed. "In that case, I'll no doubt be tossed of Slytherin before I have a chance of graduating."

He laughed. "So dramatic. Look, you've shown ambition openly challenging Malfoy when his family practically runs the wizarding world. And you've shown cunning by making an alliance with the Longbottom heir. There'll be those who'll recognize your strong Slytherin sensibilities and support you. You'll see." Since those things had just sort of happened, Heather rather doubted it. But she allowed an eyebrow to rise at him anyways. "Such as yourself Mr. Pucey?" The older boy gave her a mischievous wink and stood. "Perhaps Miss Potter, once you're older and shown me what you're capable of achieving alone." With that he was gone.

Well. It seemed her waiting period was over - they had finally spoken to her. Too bad she didn't like what they had to say. Heather shook her head. _I have no idea what I've gotten myself into._ She packed up her things and went to her next class. The seat next to her was conspicuously empty, Malfoy had moved to sit father back. She wanted to take advantage of it and have Neville move by her, but the Gryffindor was absent. She resolved to go check on him after class and tell him the good news. Malfoy had abandoned his attempts to be 'friendly'. At least one positive thing had come from her now open rivalry with the stuck up boy.

* * *

Neville insisted on coming along as her second. He explained as the challenged party Malfoy would set the terms of the duel and that not showing up would be conceding the issue. Madam Pomfrey said he'd up before curfew. Heather was touched that he was coming, but since he knew as many spells as she did, which is to say slim to none, his support was more moral then practical.

She had meant spend all of her free time that afternoon some spells to beat Malfoy. No matter how her aunt wouldn't approve of fighting, this WAS a matter of honor now. But she got engrossed reading about the rules of the different types of duels. Before too long it was curfew and she was pacing in her shared room, until Parkinson chased her out because 'really some people were trying to sleep'. Pacing in the common room was probably frowned upon, so she sat, staring out the window into the lake not really seeing the things floating by.

Pucey came and sat by her, and when it got close to time dragged a surprisingly rumpled looking Draco out of his room. With a 'you kids have fun now', the older boy tossed them out of the wall. They walked in sullen silence together, and she wondered if he was reconsidering this fight like she was. The castle was dark, the portraits were sleeping, and everything was quiet. Neville was there already, curled up in a corner. Malfoy looked even surlier, but the rules said they could each have a witness or a second depending on the duel, so he couldn't argue with the Gryffindor's presence.

Ron tumbled in a little after they did, followed by the Granger girl who seemed to have gone into some sort of lecture mode and was incessantly trying to get them to go back to their dorms before they were caught. The Hufflepuff finally snapped at her. "Nobody asked you to come." Which was true, and actually made the Ravenclaw stop talking.

Heather turned to face Malfoy. "Draco of the most Noble and Ancient line of Malfoy, you have stolen something that doesn't belong to you. Return it and I'll declare myself satisfied." In turn the blond boy looked down his nose. "Miss Heather of the family line Potter, I say that you have besmirched the House of Slytherin and will not consider the matter settled until you are on your knees before me." She clutched her wand tighter and they glared at each other.

Ron, in comparison to her awkward recitation and Malfoy's practiced formality, sounded out of place. But he got to the point. "Right you two. Seeing as you can't agree, you're going to fight it out yeah?" Neville added. "As the challenge party, Malfoy gets to pick the terms."

"First to be knocked down or forfeit loses." Ron nodded. "On the count of three. One two th-" He was cut off as Malfoy shouted a spell knocking Heather into one of the glass cases. It remained intact, but she bumped into one of the display causing it to crash into the ground. As if that wasn't enough noise, Granger screamed. "Oh no Mrs. Norris! Run!" Ron yelped and they all scrambled and scattered.

Somehow she ended up with the Hufflepuff boy in an empty room on the second floor. "Slimy snake." Ron said panting. "Set us up." Heather shot him a look. "Oh so now you're talking to me?" She asked sarcastically. His face flushed. "Well Malfoy obviously isn't any friend of yours. He ran as soon as he casted. "As if that explained anything. "So? He was a prat on the train too. That hasn't changed. But _you_ have."

"Me? What about you? Went into Slytherin with the likes of him." No wonder the Slytherins were so insular if everyone thought like Ron. "So now you're saying EVERY Slytherin is evil? What about Merlin?" She challenged him. His mouth worked before he looked away. Feeling bold, she stuck out her hand. "Friends again?" He looked at her had for a moment like it might bite him, but finally shook it. "Alright yeah. But you better not start turning into an evil get like Malfoy." Elated she practically floated down to her bed. She had _two_ friends now.


End file.
